A fund-raiser for cancer research seems light-years away from the fickle world of fashion.
But the yellow silicone LiveStrong wristbands the Lance Armstrong Foundation started selling in May 2004 have evolved into a fad as noteworthy as the nose ring. The LiveStrong campaign has spawned wristbands in every color, for every cause imaginable. There are wristbands for mitochondrial disease, and there are wristbands supporting American troops in Iraq. There are wristbands for professional sports teams and wristbands for soccer moms. They are available over the Internet and at the local convenience store.
They have flooded the teenage market, decorating the arms of middle and high school boys and girls -- and even elementary school kids -- as fashion accessories. ''Almost every kid at school has one. I know people who have one to match every outfit," said Samantha Clark, 14, who attends Somerville's Winter Hill Community School. ''They're just light and affordable."
Clark was browsing through Claire's Accessories at CambridgeSide Galleria with some friends after school. At the checkout counter, above some nail files, were bins filled with bands in eight different colors, with phrases like ''Hope," ''Rebel," and ''Spoiled" printed on them. These wristbands, which cost $1.50 each, do not support any particular cause. Clark said she would not buy any because she already owns some in pink, red, black, green, and blue.
Patricia Hamm, manager of the Official Red Sox Team Store across from Fenway Park, said people between the ages of 5 and 20 have been snatching up its Sox wristbands, which come in six varieties. ''They usually get more than one when they see there are other colors," she said. But Hamm thinks the craze will end soon. ''I don't think we sell as many as when we first got them," she said, adding that the store began offering them around Opening Day.
Michelle Milford, spokeswoman for the Lance Armstrong Foundation, which was started by the six-time Tour de France champion after he was diagnosed with testicular cancer in 1997, said the group has not paid attention to the wristband craze. The foundation has instead focused on how deeply its product has reached people who have dealt with cancer, she said. Milford said law enforcement agencies have been quick to stop efforts to sell bands that mimic the genuine LiveStrong wristbands -- using the same color and phrase -- so counterfeits have not posed much of a threat.
The official LiveStrong bands cost $1 each and are sold in bulk through the Lance Armstrong Foundation website and individually through authorized retailers. The foundation has raised $47 million from the sales, almost 10 times its initial goal, Milford said. She added that the foundation sells 70,000 to 100,000 bands per day in the United States and abroad.
The foundation views positively wristbands that support other areas of medical research, for Alzheimer's disease and more obscure ailments like spina bifida. ''We're flattered by their imitation and hope they are successful," she said.
The more entrepreneurial imitators such as Clay Broadbent of Logan, Utah, hope that wristbands stay hip in the fashion world. He and his partners, Scott Huskinson and Aaron Bishop, started the website reminderband.com last November to sell custom-made silicone bands. The site sells 30,000 to 60,000 custom-made wristbands per day, Broadbent said, but he does not expect the numbers to stay that high.
He and his colleagues are considering running more Web ads internationally, because they think the trend has yet to peak abroad. Broadbent reports that at least 15 percent of reminderband.com sales come from the United Kingdom, where Prime Minister Tony Blair was photographed wearing a white ''Make Poverty History" wristband in March.
Broadbent, Huskinson, and Bishop recently started another site, bandsonhand.com, which sells wristbands already printed with popular stock phrases. ''Soccer Mom" and ''American Girl" are some of the best-selling bands, Broadbent said.
Clark and her friends Jessica Carvalho and Lorin Desrochers said the trend has gone overboard. Desrochers picked up a black wristband at Claire's Accessories and wrinkled her nose in disgust. ''I would never wear something like this," she said, pointing to the word ''Stupid" printed on the band. Both Desrochers and Carvalho own other bands.
Carvalho predicted that after the fashion appeal of wristbands fades, they will remain a fixture among teens because of the charitable causes. ''All of us have someone in the family with cancer," she said, pointing to herself and her friends. ''That won't ever change."![]()
